The weekend was turbulent. I kept expecting Finn to appear at my window again, but he didn’t, and I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. I wanted to talk to him, but I was terrified. Terrified he might be lying, and terrified he might be telling the truth.
I kept looking for clues in everything. Like, Matt is pretty short and so am I, so he must be my brother. Then a minute later, he would say he prefers winter to summer, and I hate winter, so he must not be my brother.
These weren’t clues one way or another, and deep down I knew that. My whole life was now one giant question, and I was desperate for answers.
There was also that burning unanswered question about what exactly Finn wanted with me. Sometimes he treated me like I was nothing more than an irritant. Then there were other times when he looked at me and took my breath away.
I hoped that school would bring some kind of resolution to all of this. When I got up Monday morning, I took extra care to look nice, but I tried to pretend it wasn’t for any particular reason. That it wasn’t because this was the first time I’d see Finn since he had come into my room, and that I still wanted to talk to him. I still wanted to impress him.
When the first-period bell rang and Finn still hadn’t taken his place a few rows behind me, a knot started growing in my stomach. I looked around for him all day, half expecting him to be lurking around some corner. He never was, though.
I barely paid attention to anything all day in school, and I felt incredibly defeated when I walked to Matt’s car. I had expected to gain some knowledge today, but in the end I was left with even more questions.
Matt noticed my surly demeanor and tried to ask about it, but I just shrugged him off. He had been growing increasingly concerned since I had come home from the dance, but I had been unable to put his mind at ease.
I already felt the sting of Finn’s absence. Why hadn’t I gone with him? I was more attracted to him than I had ever been to anyone, and it was more than just physical. In general, people didn’t interest me, but he did.
He promised me a life where I fit in, where I was special, and, maybe most important, a life with him. Why was I staying here?
Because I still wasn’t convinced that I was evil. I wasn’t ready to give up on the good I had worked so hard for in my life.
I knew of one person who had always seen through my fa?ade and known exactly what I was. She’d be able to tell me if I had any good in me, or if I should just give in, give up, and run off with Finn.
“Hey, Matt?” I stared down at my hands. “Are you busy this afternoon?”
“I don’t think so . . .” Matt answered tentatively as he turned on the block toward our house. “Why? What’s on your mind?”
“I was thinking . . . I’d like to go visit my mother.”
“Absolutely not!” Matt cast me a livid glare. “Why would you even want that? That’s so completely out of the question. No way, Wendy. That’s just obscene.”
He turned to look at me again, and in that moment, staring directly into his eyes, I repeated the same thoughts over and over. I want to see my mother. Take me to see her. Please. I want to see her. His expression was hard, but eventually it started to soften around the edges.
“I’ll take you to see our mother.” Matt sounded like he was talking in his sleep.
I instantly felt guilty for what I was doing. It was manipulative and cruel. But I wasn’t just doing it to see if I could. I needed to see my mother, and this was the only way I could do that.
I felt nervous and sick, and I knew Matt would be irate once he realized what he was doing. I didn’t know how long this persuasion would last. We might not even make it to the hospital where my mother lived, but I had to try.
It would be the first time I’d see my mother in over eleven years.
There were several times throughout the long car ride when Matt seemed to become aware that he was doing something he would never normally do. He would start ranting about how terrible my mother was and that he couldn’t believe he’d let me talk him into this.
Somehow it never occurred to him to turn around, but maybe it couldn’t occur to him.
“She’s a horrible person!” Matt said as we approached the state hospital.
I could see the internal battle waging underneath his grimace and tortured blue eyes. His hand was locked on the steering wheel, but something about the way he gripped it looked like he was trying to let go but couldn’t.
Guilt flushed over me again, but I tried to push it away. I didn’t want to hurt him, and controlling him like this was reprehensible.
The only real comfort I had was that I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I wanted to see my mother, and I had every right to. Matt was just being overzealous about his protective duties once again.
“She can’t do anything to hurt me,” I reminded him for the hundredth time. “She’s locked up and medicated. I’ll be fine.”